


The Morning After

by UnknownXeno



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe, Angst, How Do I Tag, M/M, My First Fanfic, Now Beta Read, meant to be funny but got serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 20:19:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownXeno/pseuds/UnknownXeno
Summary: After dropping a nuclear bomb of a confession on Megatron Optimus returns to the kitchen the next day and finds something he didn't expect.





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zombieheroine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [<Uninstall>](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856262) by [Zombieheroine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/pseuds/Zombieheroine). 



> This thing started as what I thought at the time would be a couple paragraphs at most in a comment for Ch 31.  
> It was meant to be a funny little thing but it then proceeded to flip me off and run away from me into more serious and angsty territory. Personally, I blame my pet-peeve of characters acting OoC even if the idea is to make a parody or (in this case) a funny little gift.

It was the morning after his selfish little act, and Optimus still felt a slight high from his good mood the day before. With a pleased sigh and a languid stretch, he emerged from his berth and smoothly strode out of the room. He went into the kitchen to make himself some energon and spotted his reluctant housemate standing stiffly at the counter.

"Good morning, Megatron," the Prime greeted genially as he entered and began making his morning energon. 

Prime smiled to himself and added a bit more of his favorite additives than he usually did to give himself a treat, still in the mood to be a bit selfish.  
Turning around and sipping, savoring the flavor of his ration, he finally took notice that Megatron had not moved since he entered. In fact, he still held the same shellshocked expression Optimus had left him with the day before.  
Now a bit worried, Optimus placed his energon down on the table between them and called out to Megatron.

...

The ex-warlord made no move.  
Now frowning, the red and blue bot waved a black hand before Megatron's face and called his name again, this time louder and a bit urgent.

Still no response.

"Slag, I think I broke him..." The curse and utterance were out of the pristine Prime's vocalizer before he could stop them, before the thought had even completed itself in his mind.

Fortunately, the uncharacteristic curse seemed to knock Megatron out of his trance.  
"You-" his voice was laced with static as his wide, nearly white optics locked onto the other; though Optimus felt like he was more being looked through, than looked at. “You love me…”

Optimus had to focus a bit to understand the static laced words that fell like barbs from Megatron’s intake.

Prime shifted uneasily as he took in the words and Megatron’s condition.

The silver and violet mech looked ill with his white, pale optics, and now that Optimus had managed to knock him out of wherever Megatron had been locked in his processor, his servos and armor shook faintly as if trying to warm freezing circuits.

“Megatron, are you feeling all right?” Optimus started to circle around the table to stand next to Megatron, when the shaking mech let out a bark of hysterical laughter startling the Prime into stopping.

“I should be asking you that!” his voice was made maniacal and high pitched by the heavy static and glitching of his vocalizer. “You, the all perfect, poised, pristine Prime, in love with a tyrannical terror like me!” He dissolved into a fit of insane giggles that made Optimus want to back away slowly and lock himself in his claimed room. “Primus must have a grotesque sense of humor!” Megatron cackled.

“Megatron… Did you recharge at all last night?” Though reluctant to have all of the unhinged tyrant’s attention on him, Optimus couldn’t help but worry. But it didn’t stop him from getting in a loose and subtle fighting stance just in case Megatron lunged.

The deranged giggles faded as Megatron processed the question, though his vents wheezed to cool stressed circuits.

Some of the color started to return to the pale optics, as it started to dawn on him just how long he had been trying to process his long time enemy’s declaration of love.  
The metal table screeked as Megatron clenched his claws in mortification and stood straight and tall.

“It-“ Megatron paused, and several clicks could be heard as he reset his vocalizer until he could speak without it glitching or spitting static. “It is none of your concern, Prime. Now if you would stop hovering I need to think over this terrorist attack.”  
Gathering up the data-pads he was looking at the day before, Megatron stormed his way to his own designated room.

The door shut behind the silver giant with an air of finality that should not have been possible, as it shut the same way as it always had.

Optimus heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face, as he relaxed out of his stance and leaned against the table.

He stayed leaning against the table, his high from the morning now long gone, for a couple clicks mourning for… Something. What exactly, he didn’t know. Finally, he straightened from the table, fluffed and rearranged his armor so it was clamped tightly around his chassis, and reached for his morning energon.

He paused when he saw the five thin, shallow claw marks on the metal table, and shuttered his optics, as he reached the rest of the way and picked up his full cube. He did not open them until he had his back to the scarred table, and marched back to his own room.

The door obediently opened for him, and Prime went to enter… But stopped as he looked at the energon in his servo, then to the door Megatron had disappeared behind.

A sudden wash of determination flooded his spark, and he turned back to the kitchen.

Later, when Megatron emerged from his room, looking both more and less rested than before, he went to the kitchen to fill his nearly empty tanks and spotted it.

A simple cube of blue-green energon, and a small data pad made for labels or short memos.

As he approached the cube and ‘pad, he saw his name written in a beautiful and flowing script.

Megatron’s intake tubing clamped shut as memories of waking up in the Pits after Orion had spent a day with him. The damned sweet archivist had always left him a cube of his favorite energon, mixed by the archivist himself, when he stayed a bit longer than Megatronus could stay awake. And he always left some sort of label marking the cube as Megatron’s.

The ex-gladiator was brought out of his memories by a sharp crack, as his thumb pierced the datapad.

Snarling, he tossed the pad to the counter, and turned sharply on his heel to snarl at the Prime for bringing back such painful (wonderful) memories. He paused before he started his rampage to Optimus’s closed door, though, and looked back at the cube.  
With another snarl, he snatched the cube from the counter and stormed to his own room, cube held delicately in his deadly claws for all his thundering and growling.

Again, Megatron’s door shut behind him, as he vanished into his own room.

It shut the same way it always did. With a soft whoosh of well oiled metal on metal, and a slightly louder click as it locked. But, as Optimus listened at his room’s door, a soft smile on his face. 

It sounded… 

Hopeful.


End file.
